


Hit And Miss

by ANervousBoysLife



Series: Baseball AU [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - No Band, Getting Together, High School, M/M, Rivalry, andys along for the ride, brendon is the mascott, gabes the other teams pitcher, joe trohman is team captain and an actual child, patrick is a pitcher, pete is some baseball legend aparently
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 11:40:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11126307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANervousBoysLife/pseuds/ANervousBoysLife
Summary: Patrick Stump is shocked to find he's not only made the team, but he's their star pitcher. He quickly befriends the team captain and shortstop Joe Trohman along with his boyfriend and catcher Andy Hurley.There's only one problem, and his name is apparently Pete Wentz.-This is replacing the fic I had previously written titled "Home Run". I didn't think it did the whole AU a justice, and I didn't like how it was basically porn, so here's the remake!Tags will be added as the story progresses.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is kind of short, but I've already gotten a lot more written. Hopefully I'll actually update this one on time.

Standing on the field for the first day of practice, Patrick felt as if it were a miracle that he was there. He’d always been good at baseball, but the fact that he’d gotten to varsity with his first try at this new school was still insane to him. 

A shoulder bumped into his own, causing the pale boy to look at the person who nudged him. His mouth opened to tell the kid to fuck off, or to tell them to watch where they were going, but it quickly snapped shut when he met blue eyes and a closed-lipped smile.

“Sorry, I should watch where I’m going.” He stuck his hand out, “Joe Trohman.” Of course Patrick already knew that, he was the team captain, as indicated by the C on his varsity jacket. “You must be the new recruit coach was talking about.”

Patrick was bewildered as he shook the captain’s hand. The coach had talked about him? It was easy to see the confusion on his face, since Joe quickly added, “He said you had a good arm on you. Can’t wait to see it myself.” Patrick simply nodded before remembering he hadn’t given Joe his name. 

“I’m Patrick!” He called as joe had turned to leave. Joe stopped and looked at him. “Patrick Stump… I, uh, I’m new.” 

Joe smiled and nodded, “Knew that already. Nice to meet you, Patrick.” He gave a wave, adjusted the blue cap over his curly hair, then started jogging to the dug-out. “Welcome to the Blue Jays!”

Patrick was left standing there, a dumb smile on his face before other guys brushed past him on the way to the dug-out. He quickly followed behind, not wanting to be late for practice.

The workouts were hard, the playing was harder. Joe Trohman was hard to beat, which is why they made him shortstop. Patrick was proud, though, as he walked off the field, soaked in sweat and looking for his mother’s car in the darkening night. He had pitched well, and the coach had decided he’d be the team’s main pitcher this season.

He received a pat on the back, and when he looked over it was none other than Joe Trohman. “You played really well today.” He smiled, and Patrick felt himself die a little. 

“Thanks, you too.” Patrick’s face was probably red. He always blushed at the smallest things. His mother would always pinch his cheeks and call him her little tomato. He looked around again, hoping his mother could appear any second and sweep him away before he embarrassed himself. 

Joe smiled and lifted Patrick’s hat, ruffling his hair. Patrick squawked, grabbing his hat back and shoving it down onto his head, causing Joe to laugh loudly. “You’re a funny little dude, Patrick.” 

“Is that a joke about my height,” Patrick accused, pointing a finger at Joe, who merely held up his hands. 

“Of course it is,” called a voice Patrick hadn’t heard before, “he does it to me all the time.”

A guy around Patrick’s height, who Patrick recognized as the catcher, walked over and wrapped an arm around Joe’s waist, smiling at Patrick. “He thinks its funny to mock us who are vertically challenged.” The stranger kissed Joe’s cheek, who laughed softly and put an arm around his shoulders. “I’m Andy.” 

“Patrick,” He said, looking at the two, doing his best to hide his surprise.

Andy gave him a nod before looking up at Joe. “Come on, we have to go. My mom’s making vegan pasta tonight and she’s expecting you over.” He smiled at Patrick again. “Nice meeting you!” He pulled Joe away, presumably to his car. Patrick wished he didn’t have to wait for his mom, but they couldn’t afford another car, so this was their only option.

It took a while, but his mom finally pulled into the parking lot by the field. Patrick let out a heavy sigh of relief. His gear was heavy and his knees were starting to ache from standing outside in the wind. He made his way over to his mother’s car, opening the car door with a click before throwing his large duffle bag into the back seat. He climbed into the passenger’s seat and buckled up as she pulled away.

“So, how was practice, sweetie?” She gave him a warm smile, and he couldn’t bring himself to roll his eyes at how overly motherly his mom was being. 

“It was great…” He looked out the window at the passing scenery. “I made a friend, I think. I’m also the starting pitcher.”

His mother almost squealed in delight. “That’s so great, honey! I’m so proud of you.” She pat his leg lightly and kept driving to their tiny home in the Chicago suburbs. “I know you’re gonna love it here.”

And yeah, Patrick could believe that too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick gets a ride home from Joe and Andy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thought i would post another chapter. The start of the fic is kind of slow but it's important, alright??
> 
>  
> 
> joe and andy are relationship goals, by the way.

Leaving Glenview High on a chilly Friday afternoon, Patrick wished his mom hadn’t picked up that extra shift. He knew they needed the money and that he should be grateful he was within two miles of the school, but he really hated long walks in the cold, especially carrying his heavy bookbag. Patrick sighed, looking around before starting the long, torturous walk to his small home. He’d just made it past the parking lot before he heard a honk. He looked over to see Andy leaning out the window of what was presumably Joe’s car, since he was behind the wheel. “You’re walking? In this weather?” There was no venom in his voice, only concern. Before Patrick could speak up, he continued. “Hop in, we’re going to go to my house. You can tag along.” 

Patrick knew his mom wouldn’t mind as long as he texted her, so he nodded and climbed in the back, setting his bag down on the seat beside him. “Thanks, guys…”

Joe looked back at Patrick with a smile. “No problem. You like video games, right?”

The rest of the way to Andy’s house was filled with terrible jokes, mostly coming from Joe. Patrick learned that they shared a love of Star Wars and interest in a few bands. Joe and Andy swung more towards metal, but they still overlapped with some of Patrick’s taste. They did poke a bit of fun at him for being so obsessive over Bowie and Prince, but Patrick had major respect for the two artists who pushed the norms at the time.

By the time the trio had pulled up to Andy’s house, it had felt like they’d known each other for much longer than a few days. Patrick was more at ease with the two boys, but that still didn’t keep him from seeing Joe as some sort of baseball god, that kid was talented. Andy, as it turned out, wasn’t as dedicated to the sport as Joe, playing it for fun and something to do after school rather than a passion. Patrick could respect that, especially since Andy played drums. Drums were just another of Patrick’s obsessions. 

They lounged around Andy’s living room, controllers in their hands as they played Mario Kart. The conversation had drifted at some point to the future games this season. Patrick didn’t know much about the other teams in their league, but from the sound of it their main rivals were the Wilmette Wildcats. 

“I can’t stand him,” Joe groaned, “Wentz, he’s, like, the Metallica of high school baseball.”

Andy rolled his eyes, “Maybe so, but what would that make you? Nirvana? Joy Division?”

Patrick couldn’t help snickering at their little conversation. When the other two turned to him, it was obvious they were asking for input. Patrick held up his hands. “I just think it’s funny how you’re praising this guy. He can’t be that good.”

Joe sputtered. “Not that good? _Not that good?_ ” He looked at Andy, wide-eyed and in disbelief. “He was voted best player in the league. I can’t wait ‘til he’s gone.” 

Patrick looked to Andy for confirmation, and he just nodded. “I have to agree with Joe on this one, he’s pretty damn good. Probably the best batter to come out of Chicago.”

Patrick knew he looked nervous. Great, he was the team’s best pitcher and he knew nothing about their rival’s best batter. He was so, so fucked. 

Joes arms clasped around Patrick’s shoulders. “But it’ll be fine! I’m sure Patrick can get him to strike out. Look at those arms!” 

Patrick couldn’t agree. His arms looked pretty wimpy, if you asked him.

They continued to hang out for a few hours more. Andy’s mom made them all something to eat, making a special plate for Andy, since he was so set on being vegan. His mother seemed proud, though, that her son kept an active lifestyle and ate healthy, unlike most teen boys. Patrick was tempted to go vegan, seeing as it kept Andy in good shape. Patrick had a bit more puppy fat on him than the other players, but he could run and throw really well, so no one really cared all that much. Patrick more than carried his weight on the field.

Eventually, though, Patrick had to go home. Joe offered him a ride home, and when Patrick had refused, saying he’d walk, Joe insisted it was too chilly to walk, especially at this time. Patrick resigned and let him. As consolation, Patrick got to choose the music they listened to, so that was a plus. When Joe finally pulled up to Patrick’s house, he gave him a good natured pat on the shoulder. “You’ll do great. Pete Wentz won't stand a chance.”

After that, Patrick got inside the small home he and his mother shared and went straight to bed. He could do with sleeping through the next month.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a very short chapter but it's necessary for the fic. sorry!!!

The week leading up to their first game was stressful, to say the least. They were going to be playing against the Jaguars, thankfully. Everyone said that the Blue Jays were definitely going to beat them, coach wasn’t even training them any harder for this game. He had confidence that the team could carry their own, could push themselves to be better. Patrick was probably doing that, but he was stressing himself out to the point that he was nauseous. His first real game on the team, and he was going to throw up on the field. How embarrassing.

He was sure he was going to die. The lights on the field were too bright and he felt dizzy. He was going to fuck this up. He knew it.

He was being dragged to the side by someone in heavy gear. Andy. 

Patrick was pushed onto the bench so he had to look up at the stoic catcher. “You’re going to be fine. Stop stressing yourself out, stop thinking. Drink some water.” Patrick wasn’t sure when Andy would have grabbed his water bottle, but he took it gratefully and took a large drink. “You’re the best pitcher we’ve had in years. You’ll be amazing. Plus, we’re starting the game, so you’ve gotta be ready for the first pitch.”

Patrick nodded, feeling like he was finally able to breathe. Yeah, he could do this. He could pitch and he could pitch well. He’d trained for this. He was ready. Patrick pulled Andy into a quick hug and sighed. “Thank you. I’ll do great. You will too.” 

With that, they went into their pre-game meeting, sitting and listening to their coach run through everything they needed to know. They had this.

Patrick’s dirty cleats kicked at the dust on the mound. He had this. He took a few deep breaths, his grip tightening on the ball in his mit. He had this. He looked up at the batter, getting into position. He wouldn’t fuck up. He told himself to not look at the crowd, he’d psych himself out and panic. He looked back at the dirt, kicking the white bar clean. He glanced to the bleachers once, on accident, and locked eyes with brown ones. The guy was watching with such intensity that Patrick couldn’t comprehend. It was just baseball. He looked back to the batter, who was now ready. He wound his arm back, leaned, and threw the ball, hard. The sound of a ball smacking a glove hit the air, followed by a loud “Strike one!”

They’d won by a long shot. Patrick landed quite a few strikes from the pitcher’s mound, and the coach was proud of him. He was practically beaming as he hugged Joe, then Andy. Andy joked about his hand hurting from catching one of Patrick’s hardest throws, Patrick only laughed along. When he finally collected his bag from the dugout and went to meet his mom, he met eyes with the guy who had stared him down before. He unsettled Patrick, looking at him with such an unreadable expression, Patrick felt like he wasn’t human. The guy eventually turned tail and left. Patrick caught a glimpse of the hat in his hand. It was black with a gold W etched onto the front. 

His mom found him a few minutes later, hugging him and telling him how proud she was of him. Patrick would usually be embarrassed, but he couldn’t stop thinking about that guy. Why had he been there?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of an apology for the short chapter? I was going to post this one later, but I feel as if you guys deserve it now since I've kind of scammed you out. I also combined two chapters since it was going to be kind of short anyways. I hope this makes up for it!

Patrick found himself hanging out with Joe and Andy that Saturday. They were in Joe’s basement, listening to some metal band Patrick didn’t know the name of. It was probably something from the hardcore scene. Patrick didn’t complain too much. They were just talking, reciting the gossip from school, learning more about each other. 

“I swear I saw him at the game!” Joe proclaimed to Andy after a bit of silence. It hadn’t been awkward, just a lull in the conversation. 

Andy sighed. “Here we go again…” He looked at Patrick. “Joe’s delusional. He swears the Wildcats are spying on our games to figure out how to beat us. He thinks he saw Wentz at the game.”

“I did see him!” Joe cried, “He was staring Patrick down the whole time!” Joe looked at Patrick. “You noticed, right?”

Patrick, now the center of the conversation, just shrugged. “I dunno. Dude, I’ve never seen the guy before. How would I even know if he was staring at me?” 

Joe started rambling on about how you would just _know_ if you saw Pete Wentz. Apparently there was supposed to be a look about him. Patrick didn’t understand, and Joe wasn’t good at physical descriptions. He simply shrugged it off, letting Andy handle it. He’d known Joe longer, and he had to do it enough anyways, one more time wouldn’t hurt. It was kind of funny to watch Joe’s protests anyways.

The more Patrick thought about it, the more he had wondered about the guy who’d stared him down at the game. He thought it wasn’t Pete Wentz, but there was still that edge of doubt in his mind. The guy had been staring at him pretty weirdly, and Joe had said he was scoping them out. It was a possibility. He just hoped that if it was Pete that he didn’t pick up much on Patrick’s style of pitching. He had to have the element of surprise on his side.

-

Two weeks later, they were at yet another game. Patrick was refining his skills more, pushing himself to be an even better pitcher than when he started. It was kind of working, too. He’d burned off some of the puppy fat that clung to his sides and had beat his record for running. Andy continues to tell him that his arm’s improving, even going as far as to tell him that he’d be a great MLB player. Patrick laughed at that. No way was he going to do baseball professionally. He wasn’t that good. 

It seemed the team as a whole was doing their best, strengthening together and working as a unit. They could almost read each other’s minds. It only emboldened Patrick, made him more confident that they could beat Wilmette. He could best Wentz. This game was a good chance to prove it. 

When he stepped onto the field, brown eyes followed him. He caught a glance at the same black and gold hat. His heart stopped beating for a second. 

They won, as expected. Patrick played expertly. As he got in his mom’s car, he caught another glimpse of the gold W embroidered onto a black hat. He couldn’t think of much else for the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im the champion of people who dont believe in champions!!!!  
> since champion was just released here is a gift from me to you. have a good night (or morning, afternoon, w/e)!!!

It was Patrick’s birthday on a Saturday. Joe had texted him, telling him that they were going bowling for his birthday since Patrick hadn’t mentioned the holiday in time for Joe to get him a proper gift. Patrick wasn’t complaining, but he didn’t really celebrate his birthday anymore. It was just another day to him, but if it meant bowling and gross nachos for free, he’d take it over nothing.

They drove out to Wilmette Bowling, which wasn’t too far, but it was still one of the further options. Patrick didn’t really care where they went, he just wanted to have fun with his friends. They drove through 95, towards the wealthier suburb and the lake. He didn’t think of it as enemy territory. It was just high school baseball after all. It was just another place outside of Chicago. Another place nearby. Still new. 

They pulled into the bowling alley, Joe tugging Andy by the arm like a small child. Joe was excitable, it was cute. The more he got to know the guy, the further from the perfect captain he became. He was no longer an idol in Patrick’s eyes, just another kid in school trying to make it. Patrick’s respect for him never faltered.

Joe payed for their lane, for the shoe rentals, and even ordered a medium pizza and salad. Patrick wasn’t sure where Joe was getting this money from, but he wasn’t complaining. Joe just might have been a trust fund kid. Patrick could see it.

They played for a while, their names on the board being a combination of puns and band references. Patrick was sure they looked stupid, but he was allowed to feel stupid, it was his birthday. 

Joe went quiet suddenly, his eyes fixed to the entrance of the bowling alley. He grabbed Andy’s arm, his glare obvious. Patrick, of course, was lost to the whole of it. He didn’t understand why Joe was glaring. Then he saw it.

There was a large group of guys, big enough to be a team because, from the looks of it, it _was_ one. They all had something on them that was black and gold. As one guy walked by, it was easily read on the back of his jacket. 

**WILDCATS**

They all headed towards the shoe rentals. Joe stood. “We should go.” Patrick shook his head and grabbed Joe's arm at the elbow.

“No we shouldn’t. We were here first, and we’re celebrating my birthday. I don’t care if a bunch of guys from another team are here. We’re having fun whether they like it or not.” Patrick held firm, his face showing the seriousness behind his words. Joe sighed and sat back down. Andy got up and bowled his turn.

The hoard of guys flooded two lanes, situated right next to the trio. Patrick payed them no mind, keeping his eyes on the score. He was in last, didn’t really go bowling much. Joe and Andy seemed to do so much more often than he did, considering they hardly ever left pins on the lane. 

Something kept nagging Patrick in the back of his head. He shouldn’t be concerned about the guys playing a game just beside them. They probably didn’t even know who Patrick was, but they knew Joe, probably Andy too. He was just glad that no one had said anything yet, hoped that no one would. He wasn’t that lucky.

“Is that Joe Trohman?” Someone called, walking over to their lane. Patrick pulled his hat lower on his head, slouching in his chair. He hated large crowds, hated confrontation. Funny, considering he’s a baseball player. 

Joe crossed his arms over his chest, standing right in front of the new stranger. Patrick didn’t see him well, but he was tall and skinny. He looked lean from what Patrick could tell, hidden strength in his form. “And if it isn’t Gabe Saporta. Long time, no see.”

Gabe, as he was apparently called, shrugged. “What? Didn’t miss me?” Patrick could hear the grin on his lips. “What are you doing in Wilmette? Aren’t there plenty of other bowling alleys in the area you could have gone to?” And there were. Patrick wasn’t sure why they came to this specific one. 

Joe didn’t lose his cool, which Patrick certainly would have. “Thought I would take my friend somewhere nice for his birthday.” And Patrick wished Joe hadn’t said that, hadn’t brought him into it, because now all eyes were on him, curious in the worst kind of way. 

Another voice spoke up, one Patrick hadn’t heard. He didn’t look up. “Is he that new kid on their team? The pitcher?” Patrick wanted to sink into the floor. They knew who he was. When he looked up to see who spoke, the first thing he saw were brown eyes. Then the hat. 

Joe stepped in front of Patrick, conveniently blocking his view so there wasn’t much else for him to look at but Joe’s back. “Doesn’t matter. It’s his birthday, so if you could _please_ \--” 

“Can’t we wish him a happy birthday?” Saporta asked, peering over Joe’s shoulder. “He’s a cute one. Fresh meat. Maybe I can convince him to change sides…” Everything in Gabe’s voice implied he was not talking about baseball. “I bet he’d enjoy some quality time with me, huh?” 

Joe stepped closer to Gabe. Just before he could say anything, Andy interfered. “Touch him and I’ll drag your sorry ass out of this fine establishment and make damn sure you can’t play for the rest of the season, got it?” Gabe held up his hands in defeat, Joe turning to Patrick, who didn’t seem bothered, just a bit in shock. 

Joe smiled a little. “Andy’s never afraid to get into fights.” Patrick nodded quietly. He looked over Joe’s shoulder, at the group of guys talking amongst themselves. There was one set of eyes still on him. Familiar brown drawing him in. His stomach did a somersault, and Patrick wasn’t sure if it was the pizza or from the way the guy was looking at him, just as intense and inquisitive as he had the first time. It sent shivers down Patrick’s spine, and he didn’t know why. He could finally see the rest of him, too. He was short, but taller than Patrick, if only by a little. His hair was dark too, so much so that it matched the hat that was on his head. The W was still there, as Patrick had expected. The guy looked away, causing Patrick to look up at Joe and pretend he hadn’t just checked out someone from their rival team. Patrick’s mouth felt dry.

Joe only looked concerned, probably reading Patrick’s expression as fear or concern. He didn’t correct him. “That’s Gabe Saporta, the pitcher. He’s not gonna hurt you, he’s just got a fucked up sense of humor.” Patrick only nodded a little, looking over to the taller guy. He was laughing about something, talking with the guy who Patrick had been so focused on. The other guy didn’t seem too amused. He glanced over at Patrick, looking slightly regretful. Patrick didn’t get it.

Patrick looked back at Joe and nodded. “Thanks…”

They left a few minutes later to avoid any more conflict. They picked up a movie and candy, Andy pitching in to help pay for it. They decided to hang out in Joe’s basement for the rest of the night. It was fun, Patrick much preferred this to bowling anyways.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bluejays and Wildcats face off on a night to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for slow updates! I just started working a ton of hours so I'll be posting far less frequently, but I'm still writing!!! It's all planned out, just you see.

Patrick knew Wilmette was a nicer high school, set in a wealthier town and funded by wealthy parents. He knew that, when the time came, they would have to play at Wilmette. He knew all of these things, but it still didn’t prepare him for when he set foot onto the field. 

There was absolutely no dead grass in the outfield. The bases were spotless, the bleachers were huge. Everything screamed high quality, and Patrick felt out of his element. It felt like a professional stadium for a minute. The black and gold signs lining the fences matched the wall separating the bleachers and the field, matched the massive crowd on the home side, decked out in their team attire. They were booing as the Blue Jays arrived. They weren’t welcome. They forced on anyways, making their way to the dugout labeled “VISITORS”.

Patrick threw his duffle bag onto the bench, looking ahead of himself through the chain link wall. He looked over the orange dirt, towards the other side of the expanse. In the HOME dugout he could only see a mass of black and gold. Their hats were the same one he’d seen before. His eyes met dark brown ones, and his heart stopped. He was being watched, yet again. _Strike three, you’re out._ He shook the thought from his head. Pete Wentz, he concluded, was watching him, assessing him. He was probably picking out flaws in Patrick’s pitch, in his form even. He was looking for flaws and vulnerabilities. Patrick could only hope he hadn’t found any. 

Joe dragged Patrick to the clump the team was forming around their coach. They were running through game strategies, whispering encouragements to one another and reminding each other what they needed to do better this game to win. It felt like everything was on the line. People were secretly exchanging dirty tricks, not technically cheating, but frowned upon in a friendly game. This was no friendly game. 

Andy pulled Patrick aside. “I know what everyone is saying,” he sounded disappointed, “but you can’t stoop as low as to pitch dirty. People are watching, more than usual. My guess is that the umpire is going to be in favor of Wilmette, since they have the money to bribe. You have to play your best and cleanest game, alright?” He kept his eyes locked with Patrick’s. Patrick nodded, and Andy pat his shoulder. “Alright. You’ll be great.”

Although the talk did nothing to calm Patrick’s nerves, it did motivate him. He’d do his best, no matter what anyone else tried to convince him. 

Even after every pep talk he could receive, Patrick felt like the world was weighing his shoulders down as he got on the mound. He didn’t look to see who was at bat. He probably wouldn’t recognize them, but it didn’t matter. There was always the possibility of it being Wentz, and if it were him Patrick might mess up. Luckily, it was Gabe, who was waving his bat behind his head. He had a face of pure seriousness, nothing like at the bowling alley. Patrick was grateful. The memory of what Gabe had tried to say or even do at the bowling alley helped put fire in Patrick’s throw. Gabe hit a foul, then got a strike, before finally hitting the ball and making it to first. It wasn’t a total loss.

With a man on each base, Patrick was feeling the pressure. He knew that he had to get this next player to strike out, that or get a running player out so they couldn’t make a point. They were at two outs as well. One more and the Blue Jays would get their turn at bat. Patrick gazed across the expanse of orange sand at the next player at bat. He was looking down, the visor of the batting helmet blocking his face from view. He hit the bat against his cleat, then the plate, before looking up. Patrick’s heart stopped. 

If Wentz made a home run, he was screwed. 

He took calming breaths, looking out across the dirt again. He had this, it was going to be fine. He looked into Pete’s eyes, hoping to at least slightly intimidate the other player. Instead, he was met with a cocky smirk and a wink. Patrick’s body tensed up and his face went ablaze. What was that? From the looks of it, no one had noticed. Patrick waited for the tell-tale sign that the batter was ready, a bat in the air behind their head, but Pete was taking his sweet time, eyes never leaving Patrick. Pete’s hips slowly moved, almost indecipherable if one wasn’t on the field, but Patrick saw it. He had no clue if it was intentional, but Pete’s face implied that it was. Patrick felt annoyance with a tinge of something else. He wasn’t sure what.

He was sure he was as red as ever, but he had a game to play. He wound up his arm, hoping his face only displayed intensity as he stared down home plate. He launched the ball down the field, but he knew what the outcome would be as soon as his fingertips left the ball. 

There was the loud smack of ball hitting bat, a clatter, and a stampede. Pete was running, so was Gabe, and another boy who Patrick didn’t know the name of. One by one, the other players made it to home base while his team scrambled to catch the ball. Patrick looked at Andy helplessly. Andy’s expression was unreadable behind his mask.

Patrick could tough through the scolding he got from his coach, could deal with the jokes thrown over shoulders by teammates. What he couldn’t deal with, though, was the disappointment written all over the faces of Joe and Andy. It was obvious that the Wildcats had read up on Patrick’s pitching style, and after Pete had landed that home run, they’d switched him off of the mound. He was benched for the rest of the game. That may have been why they’d lost. Patrick felt like he’d let everyone down. 

He avoided the rest of his team, waited for them to clear out of the dugout before even thinking of packing up. He let himself have that bit of quiet time to sulk. Their coach had started to approach, but one glance at Patrick and it was obvious he was better off being left alone. No amount of encouragement could keep him from feeling as he did in that moment. 

He didn’t look up from the dusty concrete of the dugout floor until a black and gold bat hit against the chainlink of the wall. He hesitantly tore his eyes from the ants that were scouring for food to look up at the person who obviously didn’t read his body language or just simply didn’t care enough to leave him alone. He was shocked to find it was Pete Wentz, who was looking the same as he had been at the bowling alley, shockingly sympathetic. 

“Is this seat taken?” He asked quietly, motioning beside Patrick. Patrick had to look around, exhaling when he realized they were the only two left at the field. Patrick shook his head, motioning for Pete to sit down as well. 

The other boy sat slowly, kicking a crumpled and empty water bottle to the other side of the dug out. “So… I’m Pete, if you hadn’t known that already…” He offered a small smile. “I’m a little bit notorious, so I’ve heard.”

It should have been unsettling to find _the_ Pete Wentz was not as shitty of a person as Joe had made him out to be. He had this caricature of some smug guy who thought he knew everything about baseball in his head. He hadn’t expected sympathy to come from the other kid who’d seemed larger than life just hours before. Patrick simply nodded. “I’m Patrick Stump… New, I guess.” He leaned his head on his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. “Screw-up of the year.”

Pete, it seemed, was terrible at sympathizing. He let out a tiny laugh before covering it with a cough. “Sorry, I, uh, I guess that’s my fault.” He scratched the back of his head, lifting his hat to fix his hair and setting it on his lap. “I couldn’t really help myself.”

Patrick lifted his head, giving the other boy a confused look. He didn’t understand. Pete couldn’t help himself and had to make a fool of Patrick in front of the whole crowd, his whole team, his only friends. Patrick didn’t even get the chance to protest, as Pete continued.

“You’re just, like, really cute. I guess that makes me an asshole for flirting mid-game to the rival team’s pitcher. Yanno, team loyalties or whatever. Dumb shit like that.” Pete was looking out at the distant advertisements. He had a small smile on his face, but it almost looked sad. “I was always a sucker for Romeo and Juliet, but I could never finish reading because I knew they’d both die in the end.”

“I have no fucking clue what you’re on about.” Patrick was smiling a little, though. Maybe this Pete guy wasn’t as bad as he really thought. 

Pete looked at Patrick, brightening up just a tiny bit. “Oh, but my dearest Juliet Capulet, how could thou not see that thy’s beauty has captured my heart?” Pete had a goofy grin on his face, and Patrick couldn’t stop himself from laughing. 

“I don’t think Shakespeare ever wrote something that dumb.” Patrick had to hold his stomach to stop himself from laughing any more. Pete looked wounded, but in a playful way that meant he hadn’t taken it to heart. The tan boy stood, offering a gloved hand to Patrick. 

“Maybe not, but I do think my intentions are clear, are they not?” When Patrick didn’t answer but simply slipped his hand into Pete’s, Pete pulled him close, so they were nose to nose. “Well, I intend to make you my Juliet, minus the dying and stuff.” 

Patrick laughed softly, and when Pete leaned in to kiss him, he covered his mouth with a hand. “Not so fast, Montague. You’re going to have to buy me dinner first. And you so owe me for making me feel like an idiot in front of my whole team.”

Pete smiled and nodded, stepping back to give them a respectable amount of distance between them. “Of course.” He kept his hand interlocked with Patrick’s, looking around. “Why don’t we go out now? After all, I’ve got nowhere I need to be.”

Patrick looked around. The amount of time they’d been left without anyone coming to check being suspicious. Patrick shook his head, reluctantly pulling his hand away. “I can’t, not tonight. Joe’s giving me a ride home and--”

“And,” Pete cut him off, “You’re going to tell him plans have changed so I can treat you to a milkshake and fries.” He clasped his hands together and gave Patrick puppy dog eyes. “Please? I’m blowing off a post-game party at Gabe’s house for you!”

Patrick made a face at the mention of Gabe Saporta, but sighed and gave in, nodding. “Fine, but you’re driving me home because I am _not_ having my mom pick me up. Got it?”

Pete grinned in delight, pulling Patrick tight for a hug. “Yes!” He backed away quickly, giving him room. “Sorry, I’m a bit grabby.” He smiled sheepishly before motioning to Patrick vaguely. 

“What?”

“Uh, Pete smiled a little awkwardly, “Aren’t you gonna text Joe or something to let him know?”

“I’ll let him know!” Called a voice that neither boy recognized. They turned to the source to find a kid, about their age with dark brown hair, coming towards them. Though, the most noticeable thing about him was the fuzzy brown mascot outfit he had on. His shirt declared that he was in fact the mascot for the wildcats, if the head he had tucked under his arm didn’t verify it enough. 

Patrick looked panicked. “No, really, it’s alright!” He whipped out his phone faster than he had ever before in his life, “You don’t have to…” He began typing immediately. 

The other boy frowned, coming closer. “Aw, and I wanted to be in on the drama!” He quickly grinned and stuck out a fuzzy hand-paw. “I’m Brendon.”

Patrick looked at him wearily, then shook his hand. “Patrick… and that’s--”

“Pete, I know. I’ve been the mascot for as long as Pete’s played. Never got the chance to talk, though.” 

“Right…” Patrick cast a glance to Pete then hit send on his text. There was no doubt that he’d made a few typographical errors, but Joe would probably understand what he’d meant.

“Anyways,” Pete began, “You’re not going to tell anyone, right? Like, you’ll let us be the ones to tell people?” 

“Sure!” Brendon smiled, “You can trust me.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i went to write the next chapter and found it was already written! pretty nice. So here's a quick update for you all! It's really short, but it does it's job i guess.

Pete dropped Patrick off at his next practice since his mom had work. He would have normally asked Joe or Andy, but he’d been hanging out with Pete already, and when Pete heard that Patrick had practice, he practically jumped at the chance to give him a ride. He was being a “good romantic partner” or that was what he claimed. Either way, it was more time to spend together, and if that meant they made out a few minutes in the car before leaving, no one was going to know anyways. 

When he finally sat down on the bench in the dugout, he had a few questioning eyes on him. By a few, there were two sets. Joe’s and Andy’s. He sighed and tried to look intimidating, but could never quite pull the small grin off his face. “What?”

“You’re, like, all happy. _Loopy_ even. What’s up?” Joe crossed his arms, leaning back on the chain link wall and raising an eyebrow. “You’re not high or anything, right?”

Patrick scoffed. “I’m not high. I was hanging out with someone, that’s all.”

Andy sat beside Patrick, nudging his ribs. “Oh? Hanging out, huh? With who? A pretty girl? A pretty guy? We know all of your friends, and you never look like that after hanging out. Who is it?”

Patrick moved away a bit. “None of your concern…” He was probably blushing again. God, fuck his pale skinned ancestors who were probably scared of the sun itself which caused this very problem. Another “mom’s little tomato” moment.

They laid off for the time being, but the silent promise of further interrogation hung heavy in the air between the three. Patrick resigned himself to preparing for the onslaught of questions he would be receiving later while tugging his orange stained shoelaces so that he could properly tie them. 

-

After practice, Patrick was picked up by Pete, unannounced. He recognized the car, and as soon as he was waved over, it all clicked. 

Pete had already hopped out of the car, rushing to Patrick before he could even blink. “I’m drivin’ you today.” He was grinning at Patrick already. 

“Hold on,” Patrick fumbled with his phone, texting his mother to let her know that he didn’t need her to pick him up. “I, uh, okay.”

Patrick, although skeptical, let Pete drag him to his car, which was a pretty new car for a kid in highschool. Patrick had to remind himself that Pete lived in Wilmette, his family had to be at least a little wealthy. Shocking enough even to himself, Patrick let Pete open the passenger side door for him, even laughing a little when Pete did a strange little bow thing. 

“Good sir,” Pete had a shit-eating grin on his face, “your ride awaits you.”

Patrick smiled, pausing before giving in and giving Pete a small kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, kind sir.” He climbed in the car and turned to throw his bag into the back seat. Pete shut the door behind him, giving Patrick enough time to buckle up as Pete ran around to the other side of the car to get in.

“Where exactly are we going?” Patrick asked, looking at Pete as he removed his hat and threw it in the back. 

“It’s a surprise.” Pete winked at Patrick before starting the car and driving off to the unknown destination. 

Patrick was almost surprised at Pete’s music taste. Almost.

-

Patrick was a little shocked, to say the least. Pete’s house was huge. Granted, all houses of average size felt huge to Patrick, but this house was really huge. Patrick wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a pool in the backyard, despite the cold winters they received. Maybe a hot tub. Pete lead him inside, immediately ignoring his mother’s protests as he dragged Patrick to his room.

“He’s my friend, Mom!” Pete called, grin on his face. “I don’t want you to smother him to death!” He shut his door once he was finished yelling at the overly affectionate woman. Pete sighed and fell on his bed. “So… wanna have some fun?”

Patrick would have usually laughed at that, but Pete was pulling him into his bed, and soon enough lips were on his. 

-

Patrick was definitely walking a little stiffer the next day at school. His hips were a little bruised from Pete’s strong, grabby hands. Joe and Andy didn’t seem to notice, or if they did they weren’t telling him. They’d probably save the embarrassment until later. In fact, Joe and Andy hadn’t even talked to Patrick at all that day. Strange, but Patrick figured they were busy studying or making out. 

At practice, Patrick ignored his straining muscles and the want to lay down. He had to improve his curve, it was his weakest throw. After warm-ups and the basics of practice, he went to the nets where he could practice his throw without messing anyone else up. His focus was entirely on himself, this throws, and the power he was putting behind his arm. He didn’t pay attention when the coach called them in for a meeting, nor did he notice when his teammates left. When he finally did notice, there were only three people left on the field, two of which were his teammates.

Patrick went to the dugout to grab his things, walking past the three people. Joe and Andy were talking to someone, but Patrick couldn’t see their face. He entered, grabbed his bag from the dusty concrete floor, and shoved his things inside, taking a long swig from his water bottle after. When he looked up again, Joe and Andy were in the dugout, packing their things silently. 

“Good practice today, huh?” Patrick smiled, looking at the two.

Neither of them even spared him a glance.

Patrick could feel his stomach drop. His two best friends were ignoring him? Maybe they didn’t hear him. “Get a good workout?”

Joe set his things down on the bench, making a loud thud before turning to Patrick with a purposefully blank face. “Sorry, we don’t talk with traitors.”

Patrick was taken aback. “What do you mean? I didn’t--”

“You slept with Pete Wentz! You go behind our backs and sleep with the one guy that should be obviously off limits!” Andy burst, crowding closer to Patrick and pressing his pointer finger to his chest. “You go off and… and…” He scrunched up his face in disgust. “You betrayed us.”

Patrick looked at his two best friends, or is it former best friends? He was hurt, his stomach dropping. “It’s… it’s just baseball.”

Joe scoffed and pulled his bag over his shoulder. “Maybe to you, but to us it’s home. It’s family.” 

They left Patrick there, alone in every sense of the word.


End file.
